Chapitre 7: Allies in the shadows
Elara continued deeper into the forest, the heavy silence now broken only by the soft rustling of leaves and the faraway calls of birds. Her encounter with the Whisperer had shaken her, but it also sharpened her resolve. The mark on her hand throbbed faintly, a reminder of the power she carried—and the danger that came with it.
Subtly, the forest that was once dark and unwelcoming seemed to shift. No longer was it a place of peril but alive, watchful, and someway aware of her presence. The shadows weren't that ominous anymore, and the light filtering through the canopy wasn't harsh but protective.
Still, Elara was not easy. Every crackling of a twig, every rustling of leaves, made her hand instinctively reach for her dagger. Her senses were heightened, and she knew better than to trust the apparent calm. The forest had a way of hiding its secrets until it was too late.
As she moved deeper, the path grew narrow, and the trees drew in. She caught a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision and froze, peering into the shadows. A low growl rumbled nearby, followed by the sound of something large shifting.
"Who's there?" she called, her voice steady despite the hammering of her heart.
The growl stopped, and the underbrush parted to reveal not one but three figures emerging from the gloom. Two men and a woman stepped forward, their faces guarded but inquiring. They were dressed in patchwork armor, weapons sheathed but within easy reach.
Lower your weapon," the woman said, her voice firm yet tranquil. She was lean and tall, her hair drawn back into a braid that shone like spun gold in the dappled sunlight. "We mean no harm."
Elara didn't lower her dagger. "That's what the last one said before it tried to kill me.
The woman's eyes flickered to her companions. One of the men, a stout figure with his thick beard, chuckled. "She's got fire. I like her already."
"Enough, Korrin," the woman said sharply before turning back to Elara. "My name is Seris. This is Korrin, and that's Malric." She gestured to the second man, who stood silently, his piercing eyes fixed on Elara. "We're travelers, like you. We've been tracking the disturbances in the forest."
"Disturbances?" Elara asked, not lowering her guard.
Seris nodded. "Strange energy. Shadows that move when they shouldn't. And now…" Her gaze flickered to the mark on Elara's hand. "You."
Elara's grip on her dagger tightened. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Korrin snorted. "You've got the glow of an ancient artifact on your hand, and you expect us to believe you're just out for a stroll?
Enough," Seris repeated, her voice sharper this time. She took a step closer to Elara, hands raised in a conciliatory gesture. "We're not your enemies. As a matter of fact, we may be the only allies you have in this situation.
Elara's instincts screamed at her to stay on guard, but something in Seris's tone gave her pause. She studied the trio carefully, noting the way they stood—alert, ready, but not hostile. They didn't have the menacing aura of the Whisperer, nor did they seem to carry the deceptive allure of illusion.
"You said you're tracking disturbances," Elara said cautiously. "Why?"
Seris's expression softened slightly. "Because these disturbances threaten everyone. We've seen villages swallowed by shadow, entire forests reduced to lifeless husks. Whatever is causing this—it's ancient, powerful, and spreading. You're tied to it, whether you want to be or not."
Elara glanced down at the mark on her hand, its faint glow pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. "I didn't ask for this."
Power rarely comes to those who seek it," Malric said, his voice low and steady. "But when it finds you, it demands responsibility."
Elara met his gaze, trying to gauge his intent. His eyes were sharp, calculating, but there was no malice in them-only a quiet strength.
"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.
"To help," Seris replied simply. "If you'll let us.
Elara hesitated. It was a luxury she couldn't afford to give in to, trusting others, but she knew her shortcomings all too well. The Whisperer had nearly overwhelmed her, and she had no idea what dangers lay ahead. Maybe these strangers could provide more than mere company-perhaps they carried answers in their midst.
"I'll listen to what you have to say," she said finally after some pause, lowering her dagger but not putting it away. "But I'm not making any promises."
Seris nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Fair enough. Let's find somewhere safer to talk. The forest isn't as empty as it seems.
The group moved cautiously through the woods, Korrin forging a path with practiced ease. He seemed to have an uncanny ability at navigating the forest, avoiding pitfalls and unseen dangers. Seris strode beside Elara, her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings, while Malric brought up the rear, his silence a constant reminder of his vigilance.
They finally came to a small clearing, and a fallen tree provided a natural bench. The air was different here—calmer, as if the shadows had decided to keep their distance.
Seris sat on the log and motioned for Elara to join her. "Tell me, how did you come by that mark?
She hesitated, then decided there was little point in hiding the truth. "It appeared a few days ago. I was drawn to an ancient temple deep in the forest. Inside, I. unlocked something. It showed me visions, warned me of a coming darkness. I barely made it out alive."
Korrin let out a low whistle. "A temple, huh? Must've been quite the adventure.
"It wasn't a choice," Elara snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "I didn't ask for any of this. I just want to understand what's happening to me."
Seris leaned forward, her expression serious. "The mark you bear is no ordinary symbol. It's a conduit, a link to powers that have been dormant for centuries. If you unlocked it, then you've awakened something ancient—something that others will want to control."
"Others like the Whisperer," Elara whispered, the memory of its voice sending a chill down her spine.
To this, Malric spoke for the first time. "The Whisperer is but the first. There are forces in this world that thrive on chaos and fear. They'll come for you, Elara, because they see you as either a threat or a tool."
Elara clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. "So what am I supposed to do? Fight them all by myself?"
"You don't have to," Seris said gently. "That's why we're here. We've spent years tracking remnants of the old world, studying its secrets and its dangers. We know the risks, but we also know the rewards. If you'll let us, we can help you understand your power—and how to use it."
"And what's in it for you?" Elara asked, her voice sharp.
Korrin grinned. "Besides not having the world consumed by shadow? Call it professional curiosity. People like us don't often trip over a living legend."
Seris cut a stern look back to Korrin before focusing back on Elara. "We are asking for nothing in return. We believe in what we do, and we think that you will be a keystone against what is coming.
She looked at each of their faces, peering for some sign of falsehood. All she saw, however, was determination, and maybe just a hint of hope.
She nodded at last. "Okay, then. I accept your help-for now."
Seris smiled. "Good. Now, let's start teaching you how to control that power of yours. You are going to need it sooner than you think.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the forest in hues of gold and crimson, the group prepared to set up camp. Korrin built a small fire, its warm glow driving back the encroaching shadows.
Elara sat apart from the others, her thoughts a whirlwind. She stared at the mark on her hand, wondering what price she would ultimately pay for the power it contained.
Seris approached her quietly, sitting down beside her. "It's a lot to take in, isn't it?"
Elara nodded. "I feel like I'm caught in something so much bigger than myself. Like I'm just a piece on a board I can't see."
Seris put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You're more than just a piece, Elara. You're a player. And players have the power to change the game.
Elara turned to her then, the weight of the words settling in her chest. For the first time in days, something other than fear curled in the pit of her belly.
Hope.
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
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Power Stone 
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